Matera
Black and White Photos of Matera.
Matera is the city where my mother was born and where I spent most of my childhood summers. Matera for me: has the taste of whipped cream just made, placed in waffle baskets left on the kitchen table for our breakfast; it smells at the kitchen cupboards of my grandmother's house; it is the look out of the windows with green wooden jealousies, watching people without them being able to see us; is the afternoon ice cream walking through the main course, dressed as princes and with the perennial terror of staining the shirt
Read MoreMatera is the city where my mother was born and where I spent most of my childhood summers. Matera for me: has the taste of whipped cream just made, placed in waffle baskets left on the kitchen table for our breakfast; it smells at the kitchen cupboards of my grandmother's house; it is the look out of the windows with green wooden jealousies, watching people without them being able to see us; is the afternoon ice cream walking through the main course, dressed as princes and with the perennial terror of staining the shirt
